


Camp Paya

by starryviolentine (LadySoymilk)



Series: Pre-Apocalypse Adventures [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Cute Kids, Friendship, Gen, Minor Original Character(s), Pre-Canon, Roommates, Summer Camp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28019367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySoymilk/pseuds/starryviolentine
Summary: (Part three of the "Pre-Apocalypse Adventures" Series) Summer vacation is here! For the first time ever, twelve-year-old Brody is going to camp with her friends instead of spending it with her family back home. Ten whole weeks of arts and crafts, swimming, nature hikes, and loads of fun in the great outdoors... and she gets to do it all with her best friend, Violet! What could be better?‘Tis the season for fun in the sun! Join Brody and Violet in this little story about self-discovery, growing up, and celebrating friendships, both old and new. Follow along on their journey to learning that even the closest of friends can spend time apart and still remain BFFs.
Relationships: Brody & Sophie (Walking Dead: Done Running), Brody & Violet (Walking Dead: Done Running), Minerva & Violet (Walking Dead: Done Running)
Series: Pre-Apocalypse Adventures [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900831
Comments: 17
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter One

After lying dormant through another multi-seasonal slumber, safely tucked underneath blankets of red autumn leaves, cold snowy down, and dew from weeks of springtime showers, the grounds of Camp Paya have woken with the summer sunshine, well-rested and ready for this year’s hustle and bustle. Stretching three-quarters of a mile due northeast from Ericson Academy, the path to camp lies right in the middle of a beautiful valley, nestled cozily between a backdrop of mountains and a rocky riverbank. With the trickling of the nearby river, the chittering of wildlife, and the crunching of fallen foliage underfoot—all amidst a forest of trees as far as the eye can see—the short hike to the campgrounds makes for the most perfect, peaceful trek.

Unless, of course, it’s mid-June and your name is Therissa Nicole Lannister. 

Therissa realized a little too late that it probably wasn’t the best idea to wear her favorite pair of black jeans and clunky combat boots this morning. And maybe she shouldn’t have brought such an enormous bag with her, nor packed it with so much stuff that it’s nearly bursting at the seams. The teenager’s face is flushed, side-swept bangs matted to her forehead with sweat, and the feeling of hot, damp fabric jammed under her armpits is seriously grossing her out. God, she hates summer. And she _hates_ nature. Dealing with both at the same time is a double whammy of the absolute worst sort. 

Having spent the summer stuck at Camp Paya once already, after which she swore to herself she would never go back again, this isn’t even the first time Therissa’s been up this path. But she doesn’t remember it being so… _uphill_ , and the sheer weight of her luggage pulling down on her arms like an anchor is making the journey feel ten times longer than it did when she was fourteen. At this point, Therissa has given up on carrying her duffel bag, which feels like it could possibly weigh more than her roommate Violet, and is dragging it through the dirt behind her.

“I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Therissa grumps through gritted teeth. “It’s too freaking hot.”

From a few steps ahead, a long-haired blonde turns to her right, making eye contact with the twin-tailed girl walking beside her, and the two of them break into giggles. 

“Oh, yeah, _haha._ We’ll see who’s laughing when they wake up to a big, ugly spider on their pillow tomorrow morning.”

“Therissa, look,” says Brody, excitement in her voice as she points overhead at the wooden welcome sign just a short distance away. “We’re here!” The girl takes off running, but comes to a stop right before she passes under it. Bringing her feet together, she leaps to the other side as though crossing a threshold to another world. 

As instructed, the incoming campers drop their bags off in a pile near a wooden playground, then follow the arrow of the nearby signpost pointing them to the main outdoor gathering space known as “The Pit.” The Pit is a large, square fire pit with rows of log benches around three of its sides and a raised platform covered by an overhead structure—also made out of logs—on the remaining side. At night, when the campfire is lit, this is where the campers have singalongs, roast marshmallows, and tell ghost stories. Right now, though, it’s where they’ve been told to sit and wait until it’s time for the orientation meeting to start. 

Unlike Violet, who came here last year, and Therissa, who came a few summers ago, this is Brody’s very first time at Camp Paya. It’s the first summer that she won’t be spending at home with her family. Even though she won’t get to go to the neighborhood pool with her brothers this year, or visit Nana and Papa in Rhode Island like they do every July for her birthday, Brody’s really looking forward to spending the next couple of months having fun summer adventures with her friends… and maybe she’ll even make new friends! Brody has a good feeling that this is going to be the best summer ever. 

Once all the campers have gathered and all the benches are full, a middle-aged woman in a ranger hat blows her whistle and gets up on the platform, cheerfully announcing that the opening ceremony is about to start. Violet, who has been particularly quiet since their arrival, sits close to Brody, chewing on her bottom lip. She’s glad— _really_ glad—that her best friend decided to stay and go to camp with her this year, but there’s already one thing that she’s dreading. 

“Oh, I hope we’re in the same cabin!” Hands clasped together under her chin, Brody unintentionally voices what Violet has been worrying about. “And Therissa, too. Wouldn’t it be perfect if we were all together?” 

Mouth feeling dry, Violet can only nod. 

The opening ceremony kicks off with an introductory speech by the woman with the whistle and hat, who turns out to be Camp Paya’s director, Pamela Wheeler. For the next several minutes, Ms. Pam outlines the camp rules and weekly schedule, but then gestures to the row of people standing at one end of the platform. They come onto the stage, all wearing the same beige button-up shirt and red neckerchief tie as Ms. Pam, and introduce themselves as this year’s camp counselors. Together, they give a brief overview of the different sports, crafts and activities available to the campers, as well as what sort of special events are on the program this year, like the night hike and the Camp Paya Talent Showcase. 

When one of the counselors mentions the “Night Under the Stars” outdoor campout that happens every other week, Brody gasps and turns to her left, expecting Violet to be just as over the moon as she is, but her friend doesn’t look like she’s paying attention to the presentation at all. Instead, her face is hard as stone and her eyes are dark, and the way that she’s crossing her arms tightly around her gives off the impression that she’s angry. But Brody knows her best friend, and she knows that this is just what Violet looks like when something’s bugging her.

Before Brody can ask about it, a bit of microphone feedback startles her into looking back towards the stage. Thanking the counselors, Ms. Pam takes the mic and addresses the campers once again. “Now for the moment I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for,” she says with a warm smile. “Cabin announcements! Could all of our teen leaders please come up to the stage?”

“Well, that’s my cue.” Therissa heaves a sigh and gets to her feet. Before leaving, she glances at Brody and Violet and smirks at the sheer amount of anxiety written on both of their faces. “Look, even if you end up in different cabins, it’s not the end of the world. You’ll live.”

A dozen or so teenagers make their way to the stage, and the counselors hand them each a clipboard containing the list of names of the campers they will be looking after. Ms. Pam waits until all of the lists have all been distributed before continuing. “These lovely young men and women are going to be your cabin leaders this summer. They’re here to help, so if you ever have any questions or need assistance, you can go to any of them at any time. Anyway, without further ado, let’s begin with Cabin One!”

One by one, the leaders go down the line, introducing themselves and reading off the names of their cabin groups. By the time the first couple of cabins have been sorted out, the dynamics are pretty clear. Two teen leaders to a cabin, and each leader is in charge of six campers. That makes for seven people in a group and a total of fourteen people per cabin. Cabin assignments never take more than a few minutes from start to finish, but for Violet and Brody, whose names have yet to be called even after reaching Cabin Four, it’s an endless, nerve-racking wait. With three cabins to go, there’s still a high chance that they could end up getting separated. 

The second leader in Cabin Four turns out to be Therissa, who shuffles to center stage staring down at her clipboard, an unreadable expression on her face. When Samantha, her co-leader, hands her the microphone, Therissa pulls the cord toward her a bit too quickly, causing the speakers to let out a dreadful, high-pitched screech. The sudden noise makes a bunch of the campers jump and cover their ears. 

“Oh, sh—” Somehow, Therissa is able to stop herself from swearing in time. Ms. Pam is looking at her sternly, eyes practically bugging out of her sockets. “—sh... orry. Sorry. I’m Therissa, the, uh, other leader of Cabin Four. Looks like the following six people are going to be stuck with me all summer, so if I call your name, good luck to you!” Looking down at her clipboard again, Therissa begins to read off her list. “Becca Gray. Ruby Hillis. Violet Gideon.” The teen’s voice changes, becoming more playful as the familiar name leaves her lips. 

Letting out an immense sigh of relief, Violet drops her head into her hands. “Thank _god_.”

Brody’s back stiffens and she sits up straight as a pin at the very edge of her seat. Now she _has_ to be in Cabin Four, too! The auburn-haired presses her hands together and squeezes her eyes shut. _Please, oh, please! Pretty please with whipped cream and hot fudge and rainbow sprinkles and a cherry on top..._

“Erin Ro… Rosen… bach... _Rosenbacher_. Wow, okay, I totally just butchered that. My bad, Erin. Amy McCoy… and…” Pausing right before the sixth name, Therissa looks up from her clipboard and out at the audience. The mischievous glint in her eyes is the only hint that she might be dragging things out on purpose.

Nearly slipping off the bench from anticipation, Brody’s heart begins to pound. She focuses all of her energy into a prayer that she mumbles under her breath. “Please, please, please…”

“Aaand that’s it!” Therissa exclaims loudly, holding the clipboard in the air and shrugging. She searches through the sea of faces until she spots her roommates in the crowd. Violet is patting Brody, who has frozen in shock and looks absolutely devastated, on the shoulder to comfort her. Sucking in a sharp breath, the teenager shakes her head and starts to laugh. “Just kidding! And Brody Burress. Come find me!” Flashing a backwards, sideways peace sign, Therissa passes the mic to the next leader and makes her way off the stage. 

Violet halts mid-pat and furrows her eyebrows as she tries to wrap her head around what happened. She’s not quite sure if that was supposed to be Therissa’s attempt at a joke or _what,_ but at least this means that she and Brody get to be cabin mates after all. The blonde looks across the firepit at her oldest roommate again, watching in stunned silence as the teenager steps down from the platform, spinning smoothly on her heels, and goes to stand near the entrance to The Pit. As Therissa walks away with a smug smile and a spring in her step, she almost looks like she’s dancing.


	2. Chapter Two

“For the billionth time, I’m sorry,” says Therissa, patting her weepy roommate on the head and giving her the most sincere, apologetic smile she can muster. Unfortunately, nothing she’s doing is having any effect on Brody’s sullen, teary-eyed pout and she turns to Violet for assistance. “V, do something, please?”

But Violet just stands there with her arms crossed. “You made her cry, so _you_ fix it.”

“Brody, come on…” 

A nearby counselor with a megaphone calls out that it’s time for the campers to head up to the cabins, so Therissa reluctantly redirects her attention to the rest of her cabin group. “All right, if everyone’s got all of their stuff, let’s get moving.” The teen hoists her own duffel bag over her shoulder and waves at the six tweens to follow her. As they make their way up the dirt path to the girls’ cabins, Therissa finds that she still remembers the layout of the camp and recognizes the buildings they’re passing on the way. “For the newbies, that’s the mess hall, and that shack behind it is the infirmary. Sports stuff to the left.”

The other girls trail a few steps behind Therissa, but Violet keeps Brody company at the very back of the line. She’s more interested in observing her new cabin mates than looking at their surroundings. Becca and Amy have already paired off and are walking side by side, chatting with a level of familiarity that gives her the feeling that they already knew each other before camp. And Violet knows Erin from a few of her classes at Ericson’s, though she’s never really talked to her before. The last girl, who’s sporting a headful of poofy red curls, appears to be the youngest from her short stature and rosy, chubby cheeks. What was her name again? Ruby? Checking out the girl’s fiery hair again, Violet wonders if Ruby’s parents chose that particular name on purpose. 

When they reach a three-way fork in the road, Therissa leads them down the path on the very left, and soon they arrive at Cabin Four. Samantha is already there with her half of the cabin members, and she waves at Therissa, who gives her an awkward smile and a nod in return. 

“Well, this is it,” Therissa declares, gesturing with an arm towards the front door of their rustic, wooden cabin. “Home sweet home.”

The moment the girls step inside the cabin, Brody’s eyes widen and her whole mood changes in an instant. As she turns in a slow circle, taking a careful look at every inch of the room, her face lights up and she grins widely. “Wow, Vi, bunk beds!”

“Um, we have bunk beds at school, remember?”

“But not in a cabin!” Brody twirls around once more before rushing over to the window and peering outside. “Therissa, look! You can see into the forest!”

Therissa smiles at Brody, thankful that she seems to be back to her normal self again. She sets her bag down on the only single bed in their half of the room and instructs the others to choose their sleeping quarters, as well. “Okay, you guys can pick your own bunks. But I swear, if you start fighting over them, I’m going to choose for you.”

So long as it’s not on the floor, Violet doesn’t really care where she sleeps, but her friend is quick to claim the set of bunk beds directly across from Therissa. Brody is about to start unpacking her things on the bottom bunk, but Violet stops her and asks if she wants to take the top instead. “I always get to sleep on top at school,” she explains.

“Really?” Brody asks, positively beaming. “Thanks!”

After everyone has settled in, Samantha comes into their half of the room through the archway near the front door. Leaning on the wall with her arms loosely folded, she waits for Therissa to notice her before speaking. “You guys ready to head out? Lunch is in ten minutes.”

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” answers Therissa, nearly stumbling over her words, having been caught off guard by the sudden presence of the other teen. Clad in a sporty top and airy running shorts high on her waist and long, dirty blonde hair tied in a tight ponytail at the top of her head, Samantha carries herself with such poise and confidence and it’s clear that she was born for this type of leadership role. The complete opposite of her. Just being in the same room as Samantha is making Therissa feel severely underqualified and very out of place. 

It’s _embarrassing._

“Great, I’ll get my girls.” With a charismatic smile, Samantha extends a hand while looking directly into her co-leader’s eyes. “Therissa, right?”

“That’s me!” Mouth moving on its own accord, Therissa blurts out the affirmative in an unnaturally chipper voice that sounds nothing like her own. Regretting it immediately, she weakly shakes Samantha’s hand. “You… Samantha?” The pressure to try and make herself look good in front of her co-leader backfires horribly because Therissa momentarily forgets how to speak. She inwardly cringes, wanting to slap herself across the face. Hard. Samantha’s melodic laughter rings through the room and Therissa could just die.

“Yeah. Sam,” she replies, eyes twinkling in amusement. “Me… Sam. Meet you outside?”

Therissa is completely aware of the fact that she just made the biggest fool out of herself, but all she can do now is try and shake it off. Turning to her cabin group, she clears her throat and tries to redeem herself by putting as much authority into her tone as possible. “Okay, everybody up. Leave your stuff. We’re going to the mess hall.”

Other than the gym and the horse stables, the mess hall is the biggest building at camp with a capacity of over two hundred in just the dining area alone. In the back is a spacious kitchen equipped with all the appliances and cooks needed to provide three buffet-style meals and snacks every day, seven days a week, to all of the campers and staff at Camp Paya. By the time Therissa, Sam and the other residents of Cabin Four arrive, there’s already a long line of people out the door. Luckily for the hungry campers, the queue moves relatively quickly and everyone is inside the building within a few minutes. 

Violet, standing on the tips of her toes, teeters back and forth as she cranes her neck to try and get a look at what’s on the menu this afternoon. Unable to see over the shoulders of all the taller kids ahead of her, she gives up and squints at the trays of the campers who are already seated at the tables. The saucy, red dish looks like some kind of pasta. “I think there’s spaghetti,” Violet tells Brody, still scanning the tables for other recognizable dishes, “and it smells like there’s garlic bread, too.”

“Yum,” Brody says. “Do you reckon they have meatballs?”

“Save my spot, I’ll go check.”

Stepping out of line, Violet creeps closer to the front, leaning this way and that in order to see behind the constantly moving row of campers picking and grabbing and scooping from the buffet table. Scrunching her nose up in distaste at the sight of the enormous bowl of ranch dressing next to the salad bar, Violet side-steps farther down the line, keeping her eyes peeled for meatballs… and chicken nuggets, while she’s at it.

And there’s good news and bad news. 

The good news is that there are definitely meatballs in the spaghetti sauce, so Violet turns around to go and tell Brody. 

The bad news is, in her rush to do so, Violet doesn’t pay attention to where she’s going. She walks head first into someone’s path, bumping into their tray and nearly knocking all of their food onto the floor. The apple juice in their glass rocks dangerously, threatening to spill over the edge. Thankfully it doesn’t, and Violet breathes a sigh of relief that they managed to avoid a potential catastrophe. But she’s still utterly embarrassed. She chances a peek up at the person she bumped into, praying that she hasn’t already made an enemy on the very first day of camp.

It’s a girl, maybe around her age... just _taller_. Glacier blue eyes. Vibrant red hair that reaches down to the middle of her shoulder blades. Violet doesn’t recognize her from any of her classes, nor from seeing her anywhere around school. But then again, she doesn’t know very many of the other kids at Ericson’s to begin with. Resisting the urge to flee, Violet forces herself to mumble a quick apology, hoping it will be enough to remedy the situation. 

The girl adjusts her grip on her tray and curiously watches Violet for a moment, but then she gives her a lopsided smile. “No worries.” And just like that, she turns away and disappears down one of the rows of tables. 

It takes one plate of pasta, three halves of garlic toast, and forty-five minutes of silly lunchtime chat with Brody for Violet to finally forget about the incident. After everyone has fueled up, the campground tour begins. For the next couple of hours, the cabin leaders bring their groups around the entire camp to get a more detailed look at what sorts of activities are available. With the exception of the few days per week with a special, predetermined schedule, the campers have the freedom to select any activities they want for each of the four time slots on their daily schedules. 

They start by the lake and work their way up the path, the counselors naming each of the buildings they pass. Occasionally, the campers are brought inside to view one of the special displays set up within. There are samples of artwork and crafts laid out on tables in the art studio, and a videotape of past performances playing on a boxy television in the middle of the dance studio lobby. In the gym, a few coaches and instructors give demonstrations of the different sports the kids can choose from.

Back outside, the tour resumes, taking everyone past the athletic fields and circling back around to the swimming pool. The campers are brought farther down the path to the garden and stables, where they get to meet and even pet one of the horses. And then, for the last stretch, everyone heads up the path by the climbing wall and the ropes course, where the counselor at the head of the line announces that the final two demonstrations of the day will be held at the archery and rifle ranges just up ahead. 

And Violet practically skids to a halt, face growing pale.

While the other campers continue along the path, the blonde stays right where she is, feet planted firmly, unmoving, on the earthy ground beneath her. It only takes a split second for Brody to realize that her friend is no longer by her side, so she backtracks a few steps, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “ _Archery_ , Vi. Didn’t you say you wanted to shoot arrows and stuff?”

But Violet doesn’t answer. 

“Vi? What’s wrong?”

Despite Brody’s best efforts to figure out why Violet is suddenly refusing to budge, she doesn’t have any success. As the seconds tick by, the two of them fall farther and farther behind, but Brody just can’t get her friend to move or tell her anything. A feeling of panic bubbles up inside her chest at the thought of getting left behind, or lost, or maybe even in trouble for not keeping up with the rest of the group. 

So, Brody does the only thing that comes to mind under this kind of pressure. 

She yells for help.


	3. Chapter Three

Strangely enough, Violet, who insisted that she was feeling sick and had been rushed to the infirmary by Therissa and tagalong Brody, makes a miraculous recovery right after Sam drops by to let them know that the tour has ended and they have a bit of free time before having to meet at The Pit. It’s too coincidental, but because Violet keeps dismissing their concerns, insisting that she’s okay and that there’s nothing else wrong, Brody and Therissa drop it, deciding that it’s not worth the fight. Besides, Violet really does seem to be feeling fine again—the color has returned to her face and she leaps energetically off the cot, grabbing her roommates by the arms and pulling them towards the door. 

At the meeting, all of the campers and cabin leaders are given a seven-day time schedule with blank boxes for each time slot that they’re free to choose their own activities. Ms. Pam gives them their first assignment. They’re to spend the next hour thinking about which activities they want to try and plan out their schedule for the first week of camp, starting with their very first activity slot happening later that afternoon. 

Brody, who has always taken her work seriously and is ready to get right to work, unzips the fanny pack around her waist, pulls out two pencils—one blue and one purple—and hands the latter to Violet. “So, what are we gonna do this week?”

Reluctantly taking the pencil, Violet slides off the log bench onto the ground, stretching out her legs and leaning her back against the wood. “Do we have to do this now? Can’t we, like, take a break or get a snack, or something?”

“We have our first activity this afternoon,” Brody reminds her. “I was thinking, maybe we could learn how to make those friendship bracelets. Remember? The really pretty ones they showed us in the art studio?” 

Violet scrunches up her nose. “Really? There are a billion cool things to do here, but you wanna sit in a room and do arts and crafts?”

That hurts Brody’s feelings a little, but she tries not to show it. “Well, okay, what do you wanna do first?”

“The rock climbing wall looked pretty cool.”

“But… didn’t you think it seemed kinda scary? It’s so high up,” says Brody, wearing her fears on her sleeve. “What if you fall?”

“They tie you to a rope, Brody. You’re not gonna fall.”

This isn’t going quite like Brody had imagined. “I just, I thought that we could start off with something simple and relaxing, you know? Since it’s the first day and all. Like, arts and crafts, and then tomorrow we could—”

“Simple and relaxing? More like lame and boring.”

Before Violet can stop herself, the words slip from her lips. She didn’t intend to sound so mean, but she’s getting a little annoyed at the thought of being stuck indoors making jewelry instead of literally any of the other, way more exciting activities. 

Unfortunately, the damage has already been done, and Brody, balling her fists, responds in a defensive tone that’s just as sharp as her friend’s. “Art is _not_ lame or boring, Violet!”

“Oh, sorry,” Violet says crossly, voice dripping with sarcasm and making her sound an awful lot like their older roommate when she’s in a bad mood. “I thought this was supposed to be summer camp, not _bummer_ camp.”

Brody narrows her eyes and bites her tongue to hold back a frustrated yell. “Well, we have to agree on something, or else… or else we won’t get to do anything together this summer!”

“Yeah, well, then maybe we shouldn’t.”

Before Brody realizes what’s happening, Violet slams the pencil down on the seat of the bench and gets to her feet. Without another word, she storms away in a huff and doesn’t look back, leaving Brody to fume and froth all by herself. 

And she does, for a while. 

With burning hot in her eyes and trembling fingers, Brody furiously shoves her pencils back into her bag and folds her schedule in half, tucking it inside the cover of her diary. A walk and a change of scenery should help clear her head. In a few minutes, Brody finds herself standing on one of the docks overlooking the lake. She closes her eyes and inhales deeply, filling her belly and lungs with each breath of fresh air. As she breathes, she focuses on the heat of the sunshine on her skin until her arms and legs tingle under the warmth of the sun’s rays. 

Shedding her shoes and socks, Brody takes a seat at the edge of the dock and lets her legs dangle over the side, submerging her feet ankle-deep into the cool water below. Ever since she was a baby, Brody has loved the water. The way it soothes her and puts her heart at ease even on the worst of days is almost magical. Before long, Brody is calm enough to continue working on her schedule, and she fills each box with the activities she wants to do the most. Arts and crafts. Swimming. Hiking. Gymnastics. Horseback riding. Just because she might be flying solo doesn’t mean she can't have fun. 

Violet isn’t her _only_ friend, after all.

Brody finishes her schedule right on time, then stops to double check that her handwriting is neat and perfectly centered in each of the boxes, erasing and rewriting where needed. After careful consideration, Brody has decided to start in the art studio after all. She hasn’t figured out what, exactly, she wants to do yet, so she starts off by wandering around to see what there is to see. The first room she peeks inside turns out to be the jewelry station, and all the supplies to make those colorful, woven bracelets that Brody admires so much are spread out across a table in the corner of the room. As much as she wants to make one, however, in her eyes, this is something that best friends have to do _together_. There’s only one person she wants to exchange friendship bracelets with, and even though she happens to be upset with said person at the moment… and even though said person might never agree to make one with her at all, Brody’s not going to do it without her. 

During her search for something else to do, Brody finds herself in the doorway of a spacious room with a row of paint-splatted easels along one wall and matching paint-splattered tables in the center of the floor. Stretched out on one of these tables is a long, blank piece of banner paper, and the way the edges are curling inward is a telltale sign that it has most likely been cut from a giant roll. The paint studio is empty except for one other girl, who is so absorbed in whatever she’s doodling in her sketchbook that she doesn’t notice Brody come in. Curiosity getting the better of her, Brody creeps toward the girl, inching ever so slowly her way, until she’s close enough to peer over her shoulder at her drawing.

Finally feeling someone’s presence, the redhead’s hand stops, pencil hovering about an inch above the page. She holds her breath, already expecting whoever’s standing behind her to comment on her art, maybe ask what it is or what it’s for, and then, without fail, ask for a self portrait. The life of an artist sure can be troublesome sometimes!

“Wow, that’s so pretty! You’re really good.”

“Thanks,” the girl replies softly. And then she waits for it. The inevitable _“Can you draw me?”_

But it doesn’t come. Instead, the auburn-haired girl takes a seat in the chair next to her and gives her a warm smile. “I’m Brody. What’s your name?” 

“Sophie.”

Brody’s smile lingers even after their exchange comes to an end, although it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. After a moment, it fades and a tiny flicker of sadness appears on her face. “Is it okay if I sit with you?”

“Sure,” says Sophie, shrugging. “The paint stuff is in the cupboard by the sink if you need it. They said we could help ourselves as long as we don’t make a mess. And the paper’s in those drawers.”

For the third summer in a row, Sophie has been entrusted with the important task of designing the banner for the Camp Paya Talent Showcase. She really enjoys working with the drama department and getting to witness everything that happens behind the scenes. But most of all, she loves getting to see one of her original creations hanging right above the stage for everyone to see. It’s her own way to shine without having to step into the spotlight. Unlike her sister, who sings in the show every year and usually gets the most enthusiastic round of applause out of all the performers, Sophie prefers to display her artistic prowess in subtler ways—just enough for people to appreciate and admire what she does without being the center of attention. 

After several more minutes of erasing and adjusting her sketch, Sophie lays her personal set of colored pencils out in front of her and picks out a few different shades of purple, red, orange and pink, already having a color scheme in mind. Ever since Ms. Pam mentioned that this year’s talent show was going to be in the evening instead of after lunch like it had been in the past, Sophie’s been unable to get the image of the gorgeous sunset she saw a few days ago out of her head. Her godparents had taken her and her sister out for a birthday weekend treat. They went to the mall to see a movie and even got to play around in the movie theater arcade afterwards. They ended the day with dinner at their favorite restaurant, and, as they walked through the parking lot back to the car, the sun was setting and the sky was the most incredible palette of colors Sophie has ever seen.

While her sister has been recreating the opening scene to the movie they watched every morning since then, dancing and lip-syncing to the catchy song playing in her head while getting dressed, Sophie’s been thinking about the colors of the sky. And it’s the greatest feeling to know that she’s going to get to paint with them very, very soon. 

Just as soon as she copies her sketch onto the banner, of course. 

“Hey, do you think this looks okay?” Sophie stands and turns to her left, wanting to show her sketchbook to Brody and get her approval, but she stops when she realizes that the other girl is just sitting there, resting her head in her arms on the table and looking really upset. “Oh, um…”

“It’s beautiful,” Brody says, complimenting Sophie’s drawing nonetheless. “You know what it makes me think of? Sitting in the sand on a tropical island... and looking out at the line where the ocean touches the sky... and it’s that time of day when the sun’s going down and everything’s just glowing in the low light. Sunset halfway underwater... Silhouettes of palm trees against the clouds...” Even though she sounds a little sad, there’s a soft, dreamy half-smile on Brody’s face as she runs her fingertips across the colors. “I imagine the sky would look just like that.”

As Sophie listens, the girl’s voice turns into the bubbling of salty waves rolling onto the sand and the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. The young artist’s face starts to feel warm, as though she was actually there on that island, basking under the setting sun on that beach in Brody’s imagination. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too.”

“Are you gonna make a big version of it on that?” Brody points at the large, white sheet of paper on the table. Sophie nods, and Brody’s smile grows wider. “Oh, it’s gonna look so nice!”

“Do you wanna help me?”

Eyes widening, Brody shakes her head fervently. “Oh, I couldn’t! I’m not that good. Not like you. What if… what if I mess up and ruin it?”

Sophie grabs her pencil and sketchbook and moves around the table to the opposite side. “Don’t worry, it’s not like I’d make you do anything hard. Just easy stuff. That’s why you’re here, right? ‘Cause you wanna make art?”

“Yeah, but I’m not really an artist...”

“Anyone who makes art is an artist,” says Sophie, smiling reassuringly. “I’m gonna outline the letters first, but then you can help color them in.”

The other girl is still worried. “Are you sure?”

“It’ll be fine. I promise,” Sophie insists. “Can you hold a brush?”

Brody slowly nods her head.

“And can you do this?” Pretending that she’s holding a paintbrush, Sophie sweeps her hand back and forth in simple but exaggerated brush strokes. The redhead tries her best to keep a straight face but ends up dissolving into giggles. 

“Well… yeah, I suppose.”

“Perfect! You’re hired!” Sophie holds out her hand for Brody to shake. “Just think of it like a giant coloring book. All you need to do is try to stay inside the lines.”

Maybe it’s because she really loves coloring books, or maybe it’s because there’s just something so kind and sincere about Sophie that makes Brody feel right at home, but that’s all the convincing she needs. After everything that happened today, Brody doesn’t know if she’s going to get a chance to make friendship bracelets with Violet, or if she’s even going to spend any time with her best friend while at camp. But she does know one thing, at least. She very well might be the luckiest girl in the world to have already found a new friend.


	4. Chapter Four

  


Violet can only hope that the camp counselors aren’t taking attendance, otherwise they might work out that she totally blew off yesterday’s activity period. It’s not her fault they only gave her one hour to figure out what she wanted to do. To be fair, Violet truly didn’t mean to skip, but after her fight with Brody she just couldn’t focus on planning out her stupid schedule. Besides, why do they have to decide what they’re going to do a whole week in advance, anyway? If she had it her way, she would just leave it up to her mood and do whatever she felt like doing throughout the day. 

Needless to say, Violet did not finish her schedule. If she were to be entirely honest, she actually didn’t work on it at all. But that’s beside the point. Instead, she slipped away unnoticed—Violet is really good at that—and hid out in the cabin until dinner time. During dinner, she found a spot in the far corner of the mess hall and sat there, eyes glued to her tray and only pretending to eat. After the evening campfire, when everyone returned to their cabins, Violet went straight to bed without even brushing her teeth. 

All just to avoid Brody. 

And that was only the first day. She did the exact same thing the next day. 

Today, however, on the morning of day three, Violet is _done_ with doing nothing. Completely over it. After a few measly bites of breakfast, she marches out to the archery range because shooting arrows seems awesome as _heck_ and, darn it, she’s going to get her hands on a bow and send an arrow flying straight into the bullseye even if it kills her. 

Or, rather, that’s what she _would_ do if she was a little bit braver. 

Violet stands off to the side of the archery range, partially hidden behind a tree, watching the other kids for a while. The only familiar face out there is Erin, that weird girl from her cabin group with the colorful braces. It’s still early in the lesson, so the instructor is talking about protective gear and explaining the proper posture to have when holding the bow, but Violet hopes that they start shooting actual arrows soon. Until she works up the courage to go over there herself, she’s content playing her own little game—one which she likes to call “Guess Which Kid’s Going to Suck the Most.” From the way things look so far, Violet’s got her bets on either Erin or the scrawny boy in the striped shirt.

“Hey, creeper.”

A sudden voice coming from right behind her startles Violet, sending her jumping nearly a foot into the air. Forcing down the scream that almost escaped from her throat, the blonde spins around so she can glare daggers at whoever had the nerve to sneak up on her like that. 

The perpetrator’s eyes widen at the sight of Violet. “Oh, hey! You’re the girl from the other day! From the mess hall,” she says, as though there was any way either of them could have forgotten the incident. Smiling coolly, she reaches a hand up to tuck her hair behind her left ear and then extends it to Violet. “I guess we haven’t properly met. I’m Minerva.”

Violet takes the girl’s hand and gives it a weak shake. “Vi—” Instead of letting her finish her name, her voice gives an embarrassingly squeaky crack. This is the first time she’s spoken aloud in over twenty-four hours. She has to cough, clear her throat and try again. “Violet.”

“Is that why you’re wearing that purple hat?” 

Violet’s cheeks burn and she gets the urge to rip the baseball cap from her head. On the day they arrived at camp, Brody had plopped it on Violet’s head, insisting that she wear it. Something about wanting her to be protected from the sun… or heatstroke… or something. Violet hadn’t even realized that she put it on this morning. God, was she wearing it all day yesterday, too? “It-it’s not mine! It’s... My friend made me wear it…”

“Cute flowers,” says Minerva, gesturing to the small, white daisies embroidered into the fabric. “Anyway, I think I’m gonna head to the art studio. You wanna hang out?”

Although Violet had already lost interest as soon as Minerva mentioned where she was going next, the redhead is giving off such a strong aura of confidence that it’s kind of intimidating. She doesn’t think she can say no. “Um…”

“Unless you wanna do archery instead. I got pretty good at it last summer, so I could give you some tips if you want.”

As much as Violet would much rather stay at the archery range than go to the art studio, she also doesn’t want to risk making a fool out of herself in front of Minerva, especially if it turns out that _she’s_ the suckiest kid out there. “No, I was just…”

“Creeping?” Minerva giggles. She starts heading down the path leading to the main part of the camp and waves at Violet to hurry up. “Come on, we’re already pretty late.” 

The girls make their way to the art studio and, once they arrive, Minerva takes the lead and guides Violet through the building. The blonde girl keeps her head down, knowing that she’s entering dangerous territory. It’s very likely that a certain twin-tailed somebody could be somewhere nearby. Violet follows Minerva to the crafts room in the back of the building. By some stroke of luck, the space is empty save for an assortment of arts and crafts materials spread out on the tables. Minerva sits down at the table where there are a few balls of thick string and some tubs full of rainbow-colored pony beads. Violet internally groans. _Please don’t tell me we’re making necklaces._

“Check it out,” says Minerva, lifting the edge of her t-shirt to reveal a keychain made out of bright green beads, strung in the shape of a lizard, hanging from one of her belt loops. “Isn’t he adorable? I made him yesterday. I promised my sister I’d make one for her, too.”

Violet blinks at the tiny, beaded reptile. At least it’s not as bad as a necklace. She has to admit that it looks sort of nice… Actually, she kind of really likes it. She had no idea that this was a thing that people could do with beads. “Yeah, he’s kinda cool.”

Minerva leans over one of the tubs and starts picking out some beads. After a few moments of awkwardly standing near the table, Violet lowers herself onto the bench as well, careful to leave some space between them. The redhead cuts a length of string and attaches it to a keyring, then starts weaving red beads onto the string in what appears to be, in Violet’s eyes, some sort of complex and intricate pattern. Noticing that Violet is just sitting there, Minerva raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you gonna make something, too?” 

“I-I don’t know how,” Violet admits, shamefully. 

“Oh! Why didn’t you just say so?” Minerva sets her red lizard head onto the table and starts to prepare another keyring with string. “It’s really easy. I’ll teach you.” First, she instructs Violet to choose some beads—one or two shades of any color for the body and black for the eyes—and then, while the blonde digs through the tub, she unclips the completed keychain from her shorts and puts it on the table for them to use as a visual guide. 

Violet ends up choosing baby blue beads for her lizard’s body and a darker blue for its legs and the patch on its back. Minerva takes a second to explain the general idea of what to do, but then gives Violet step-by-step instructions as to how to string the rows of beads. Once Violet gets the hang of it and catches up to where Minerva is with her own lizard, they work through the remaining rows together. Minerva demonstrates what to do as she strings beads onto her keychain while Violet watches, copying what she sees onto her own. Together, they take things row by row and, before long, reach the very last bead at the very tip of the tail. 

“Is blue your favorite color?” asks Minerva, wanting to strike up a conversation. Violet hasn’t said a word the whole time they were working on their keychains. 

Staring into the shiny, black eyes of her lizard, Violet slowly shakes her head. Blue isn’t _her_ favorite color. And she doesn’t particularly want to talk about the person she was thinking of while making this keychain, either. 

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Minerva observes Violet curiously. The quiet girl merely shrugs in response, keeping her eyes on her lizard. “So, I’ve got music next, so I’m probably just gonna hang out here during break. What are you doing after this?”

The still-blank weekly schedule crumpled up under Violet’s pillow could answer that question for her. “I dunno yet.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t finish your schedule, then?” Bringing her legs onto the bench, Minerva sits cross-legged and faces Violet. “Well, if you don’t have anything planned, you could always come with me to the theater. Do you like singing? We’re gonna do vocal exercises.”

Memories of all the years Violet was forced to sing in the children’s choir at her church come flooding back and she can’t help but cringe. _Thanks, but no thanks._

Minerva bursts into laughter upon seeing Violet’s expression. “Singing’s not your thing?”

“Not really.”

The girls are interrupted by a static-y chime playing over the loudspeakers, signaling the end of the current activity period. Minerva swipes her hand across the tabletop, scooping up her lizards and clipping them both onto her belt loop. “I’m gonna go see if I can find Soph before I head to the theater. Are you sure you don’t wanna come?” 

Even though Violet has to admit that it’s been sort of nice having company after spending all of yesterday by herself, she really doesn’t want to spend the next hour and a half standing in a circle singing “Kumbaya” while holding hands with kids who probably picked their nose or didn’t wash their hands after using the bathroom… or whatever happens during music lessons at Camp Paya. “No, that’s okay...”

“No worries,” says Minerva, giving Violet an understanding smile. Just before she reaches the door, she stops and turns back around. “Hey, wait, do you wanna sit with us during lunch today? I can save you a spot.”

Figuring she can handle sitting with Minerva and “Soph,” who Violet assumes is the sister she’s been talking about, for one meal, Violet gives a tiny nod. At least it would be less humiliating than sitting alone again. “Yeah… okay.”

“Cool!” The redhead grins and waves at her from the doorway. “Catch you later, Violet!”

Minerva disappears out of sight, leaving the other girl on her own once again. But this time, Violet finds herself in a much better mood. Smiling softly to herself, she clips her lizard keychain onto her own belt loop and sets out to find something to do before lunch.


	5. Chapter Five

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that when Minerva claims not one, but _two_ additional seats at their lunch table, it means that someone other than Minerva’s sister will be joining them as well. Being around too many strangers makes Violet uneasy, so the extra spot does make her a teensy bit nervous, but she puts on a brave face and tries to convince herself that everything’s going to be fine. It’s only one more person. And, surely, a group of four can’t possibly be any worse than a group of three, right?

Wrong.

The entire universe must have something against Violet specifically because, out of all the hundred-plus kids at camp this summer that Minerva’s sister could have become friends with, it turns out to be _Brody._ The sight of the auburn-haired girl bouncing over to their table comes as such an unexpected shock that it renders Violet frozen in her seat, unable to do anything other than gawk like a complete idiot. Brody, who looks just as surprised to see Violet, comes to a clumsy halt next to Minerva, mouth falling open ever so slightly. For a few seconds that last an eternity, the quarreling friends stare at each other in silence.

But then—and it happens so quickly that if Violet blinked, she would’ve missed it—Brody gives her the tiniest smile and a hesitant wave. Letting out the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding, Violet starts to relax. Brody doesn’t seem to be mad anymore. Maybe something good will come from this lunch arrangement after all. Violet’s fingers subconsciously move to the blue lizard keychain near her pocket as the gears in her head start whirring. 

_Hey, Brody, so I know you like arts and crafts and stuff, and, well, yesterday, Minerva showed me how me how to make these really cool little lizard things and I thought maybe you’d like them, too, so I made_ —

Another Minerva arrives at the table, dropping her heavy bag onto the bench and letting out a weary sigh. The loud thump breaks Violet from her thoughts and causes her to look up. “Thanks for saving us a spot. Joey knocked a whole stack of goopy paint palettes off the counter right as the bell rang and it took forever to clean up.” 

“Did you guys finish the banner?” Minerva asks.

“Almost! I think we’ll be done by tomorrow,” answers the other Minerva.

_Wait, what?_

Violet does a double-take and looks back and forth between the red-headed doppelgangers, clearly having trouble processing all of this. Brody, picking up on her friend’s complete and utter confusion, covers her mouth with her hands to stifle her giggles. 

The Minerva to Violet’s right, who also seems to find her reaction highly amusing, gestures towards her clone with a shake of her thumb. “Violet, this is my sister, Sophie.”

Sophie. Not Minerva. Sister. Sophie... and Minerva… Sophie _and_ Minerva. Sisters... _Twin_ sisters. Feeling somewhat dazed, Violet blinks at Not Minerva across the table. “Sophie…?”

Giggling, Sophie nods and waves. But then, as though she’s just had some sort of huge revelation, she gasps and points. “Wait, Violet? You’re Violet? As in…” She turns to Brody, who fervently nods her head up and down. “Yeah, Brody’s told me about you!”

“Oh yeah! Here.” Unclipping one of the lizards from her shorts, Minerva slides it over to her sister. “That’ll be five bucks.”

Playfully rolling her eyes, Sophie takes the trinket and smiles. “Thanks.”

A window of opportunity has arrived and Violet knows that she needs to take it. If she presents her gift right now, after Minerva, it won’t seem so out of the blue... _and_ it will be less embarrassing since she won’t be the only one. All she has to do is go for it. Violet’s heart starts to flutter in her chest, but she’s not chickening out or anything. She just... needs a minute to prepare. 

“Oh, Minnie, that’s so cute!” Brody gushes, as expected. But Violet hadn’t been expecting what happens next. Standing up right where she is, Brody proudly shows off a lanyard keychain—one made out of glittery magenta and indigo plastic lacing woven in a checkerboard pattern—attached to the zipper of her fanny pack. “Look what Sophie made me yesterday!”

The tiny sliver of confidence Violet had in her own keychain drops to the very pit of her stomach and shatters into a million jagged shards. She’s too late. There’s no way she can give hers to Brody now without it seeming like a stupid, copycat afterthought. 

“I really wanna learn how to make those beaded ones, though,” Brody says, once again looking at Sophie’s red lizard longingly. 

“I can teach you. It’s really easy,” offers Minerva, wearing a self-assured smile. “I taught Violet how to make one this morning. Show them the one you made, Violet!”

Even though the only thing Violet wants to do right now is disappear, everyone turns to look at her expectantly. Minerva and Sophie, and _Brody_ , with her stupid blue eyes the same stupid shade of blue as the beads on her stupid lizard. It’s all so _stupid._ The fact that Violet thought that maybe Brody had been just as bored and miserable as she was yesterday, or that maybe Brody missed her is now, in retrospect, laughable and just sad. No. Apparently, Brody had been doing arts and crafts with her new friend, merry as can be.

Then it hits her. Violet realizes that her best friend is going to be just fine at camp, with or without her. Brody doesn’t _need_ her to have fun. Not like Violet needs Brody. And that’s the stupidest part of all. A raw, volatile mixture of rage and self-loathing overcomes Violet. Breath growing ragged, she grips her lizard keychain in her fist, yanking so hard that the string snaps and all the hard work she put into making is wasted in an instant. Blue beads clatter to the floor as everything starts to come undone. 

Everything.

The pressure from the three pairs of eyes on her weighs so heavily on Violet that she feels as though she’s suffocating. And there’s only one way to escape. 

Violet runs. 

With blurry vision and a heaving chest, Violet eventually finds herself bursting through the doors of Cabin Four, pacing the floors for a moment before letting out a strangled scream. Out of the corner of her eye, she catches a glimpse of her reflection in the vanity mirror and she storms over, glaring icily at the girl staring back at her. _Stupid._ Ripping the offending purple cap from her head, Violet flings it across the room and takes a good look at herself. Messy hair. Strands in her face. Blotchy skin around her eyes. Nose so red she could give Rudolph a run for his money. Violet resists the urge to smash something hard into the glass. 

Windswept blonde locks partially obscure her vision and she angrily swats them away, but the unkempt strands keep falling back into her line of sight, sending Violet into an irrational fit of rage. As the girl huffs and claws at her hair, desperately trying to get it out of the way, as though to spite her, her fingers repeatedly get caught in the tangles and it pinches her scalp. The same sensation as when she’s in a rush to get ready in the morning and brushes her hair a bit too roughly, yanking the bristles through the knots in order to get out the door as quickly as possible.

Of course, _somebody_ always chastises her and tells her that she has to be more gentle. That her hair is so pretty and long and perfect for a ballerina bun, and if she brushes it too hard, she might get split ends. The joke’s on Brody, though, because Violet already _has_ split ends. And guess what? She doesn’t give a damn! 

Something shiny and metal inside the nearby pencil cup catches Violet’s eyes and, before she knows it, she grabs in her right hand, holding a fistful of hair in the other. This will show Brody! Maybe next time she’ll stop and think before giving any more unsolicited advice. The scissors are duller than Violet expected, so it takes a bit of effort for her to hack all the way through, but the sheer satisfaction she feels after that final _snip!_ is like nothing she’s ever felt before. Violet can hardly believe how liberating this feels. It’s incredible! It’s—

Immediately dropping the scissors, Violet stumbles a few steps away from the mirror as the reality of what she’s done slowly sinks in. Carefully unclenching her fist to inspect the damage, Violet watches in horror as several blonde strands float to the floor. The sight of the sad, lifeless bundle of hair in her palm makes her feel queasy. Her heart lodges itself deep in her throat and she panics, eyes darting from her hand to the pathetic girl in the mirror. Nearly half a foot of hair is missing from one side of her head, and it’s nothing at all like the time she got a wad of bubblegum stuck in her hair and her grandmother had to cut it out for her. Violet was seven, and she was terrified that she was going to end up with an enormous bald spot and that everyone at school would make fun of her. But Grandma had been really careful with the scissors, and in the end it wasn’t noticeable at all. 

But this time, it’s _extremely_ noticeable. 

She’s ugly. Ruined.

Breathing as jagged and uneven as her new haircut, Violet attempts to flee the cabin, hoping to disappear into the woods, perhaps to never return again. Just when she figures that she’s already hit rock bottom and things couldn’t possibly get any worse, Violet slams into somebody in the doorway. _Ouch._ She really needs to stop doing that. 

“What in the ever-living fuck, V?” 

Of course it would be Therissa. Of course. The one person besides Brody that Violet had been hoping wouldn’t see her like this. 

The teenager gives an annoyed grunt, about to go off into a rant about Violet not watching where she’s going, but she quickly picks up on the fact that something isn’t right. Her roomie looks like she’s gone on a round trip to hell and back and it’s only noon. And where did that hay come from? Violet doesn’t seem like the type to willingly hang out by the stables, but— 

“Wait, is that _hair_?” More confused than ever, Therissa tries to piece everything together. Yeah, it’s definitely hair. Human hair. Making the connection, the teen looks up and immediately notices Violet’s new haircut. _Oh, shit._ Not wanting the situation to escalate, Therissa suppresses her shock and the billion questions that follow and tries to be as calm as possible. “Huh, I didn’t know that ‘beauty salon’ was on the list of camp activities this year.” As she steps a bit closer to Violet, Therissa makes sure to keep herself right in the middle of the doorway, turning her body into a barricade to keep the younger girl from running away. This is a delicate situation, and Therissa knows that she needs to handle it with caution. Once completely inside the cabin, she quietly pulls the door closed behind them. “I do like the direction you were going. Very bold. But it doesn’t look finished, know what I mean?” 

Violet keeps quiet and won’t meet Therissa’s eyes, but at least she doesn’t look like she’s actively looking for an alternate escape route. Holding her breath, the older girl takes a chance and gently reaches out to touch her roommate’s hair on the freshly cut side. Thankfully, Violet lets her. Combing her fingers through it a couple of times, Therissa gives a low hum. “I think I might be able to help you straighten things out a bit, if that’s cool with you?”

Walking further inside the cabin, Therissa comes across the scene of the crime. On the floor near the vanity are an old pair of scissors and even more of Violet’s hair. The older girl sits Violet in the wooden chair in front of the mirror and momentarily leaves to grab her hairbrush, picking up the scissors on the way back. After spending a minute detangling Violet’s hair and brushing it out for her, Therissa looks in the mirror with her roommate. “You do understand I’m gonna have to cut it, like, _here_ , right?” 

Violet looks at the hand that Therissa’s using to mark exactly how many inches of hair she’s about to chop off and nods in defeat. She lets out a shaky sigh and speaks for the first time since the mess hall. “Just… don’t make it shorter than you have to. Please.”

Therissa giving her a thumbs-up in the mirror reflection is the last thing Violet sees before she squeezes her eyes shut. There’s no way she’s watching this. She doesn’t want to see _anything_ until it’s all over. 

Probably not even then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry about the month-long break in between chapters! Things suddenly got really hectic at work and I've been under a lot of stress... and even though I've been wanting to work on the AU, I haven't had enough time nor the mental energy to finish chapter five until now. I've also been thinking more about Therissa and her backstory lately... and I'm really into it at the moment, so the little free time I've had has mostly gone to working on that. I'm not sure if anyone would be interested, but in the future I might work on a side story or something that focuses on Therissa, what her past was like and how she became the snarky but lovable teen she is in the current timeline!
> 
> Don't worry! I do plan on finishing this story because I'd hate to leave a project unfinished, but it might take a little longer than usual. Thanks so much for your patience and support!


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